Doppelganger
by Karashi
Summary: [INCOMPLETE] My first Pet Shop of Horrors fic, a writer's flat-mate moves out, leaving her lonely. She goes to Count D for a pet to keep her company.
1. Chapter One

Doppelganger  
by Karashi

Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horros. I really wish I did, but I don't. *sobs*  
  


Author's notes:  
Me: I hope this story hasn't been used yet by the actual owner because I've only read two volumes of the manga and saw only four episodes of the anime. *sweatdrops* Oh, while this isn't my first _fic_, it is my first Pet Shop of Horrors fic. So I hope no one will flame me for writing this.

Chapter One

            Welcome to Chinatown, where the air is heavy with mystery and secrets. Almost anything can be found in one of the small shops hidden in the shadows. One such establishment is a petshop run by the enigmatic Count D. 

            "Good afternoon Miss Price." D greeted as a young woman dressed in a cream turtle-neck sweater (in spite of the summer heat) entered. She smiles back at the Count, her gray eyes shyly down cast. "You're just in time for tea."

            "Thank you, Count D." she replied, seating herself across the raven haired man. "And please, call me Ronnie."

            "How is the love bird you purchased last month? Has it begun to serenade you with its lovely arias yet?" D asked as he smoothly poured tea into two cups.

            "Oh…" she stammered, taking the drink from the count's outstretched hand. "You see, my flat-mate didn't like it too much, so I had to give them away." 

            "That's the third pet you've had to give up, it seems that your flat-mate isn't very fond of animals." The raven haired man sighed.

            "Yeah, Gerry made me give away the hamster I bought five months ago."

            "And the goldfish four months prior to that if I recall correctly." D noted, pouring several spoonfuls of sugar into his cup.

            "Don't worry, I made sure the animals were sent to loving homes." Ronnie added, her fingers nervously playing with stray wisps of her dark brown hair. "But this time it's going to be different,  I'll be able to keep the pet I'm going to buy today."

            "Your flat-mate wont make you give it away this time?" D asked with a glint in his violet eye.

            "Oh no, definitely not! You see Gerry got a job offer in New York, and moved out. So I'm basically on my own. My flat is pretty big for just one person, so it gets kind of lonely." She explained. 

            "Aren't you going to rent it out to someone else?"

            "I can pretty much handle the expenses by myself. I rent out the other bedroom because I like having company." The gray-eyed woman shrugged. "Anyway, I came over to give you this book. I doubt if you read romance novels, but I just wanted you to have this one." 

            "Another best seller of yours?" the pet shop owner smiled. 

            "Well I'm not sure if it will be as successful as my others, I used a… different style in this one." The writer hesitantly placed the novel atop the table. She suppressed a retch when she took a sip of the overly sweetened tea.

            "I see." D nodded, finishing his own cup. "Do you have anything in particular you want to buy today?"

            "Not really, just something bigger than a hamster and nothing furry. It might be difficult for me to clean up any shed hair." She laughed in embarrassment.

            "I believe I have something you might like, it just arrived yesterday. Would you care to see it?" the count offered, his dual-colored eyes tapered into jovial slits.

            "Certainly!" Ronnie exclaimed eagerly, grateful for an excuse not to finish her drink.

            "This way, it's in the back." D's silky voice well matched his movements. He seemed to glide rather than walk, and Ronnie couldn't help but feel awkward as she followed him. She had never been past the small sitting room before, and was surprised to find the store was larger than it looked.

            The enigmatic store owner led the writer down a long hallway. A light haze of incense enshrouded the darkened path, giving her a mild heady feeling. Inaudible whispers seemed to tug at her ears, but when she listened intently, only the rustling of Count D's robes could be heard. 

            "We're here." The effeminate voice interrupted her thoughts.

            Ronnie saw in the dim light a large door carved out of mahogany looming before them. The raven haired store keeper lightly pushed the wooden portal open into a dark room. Wordlessly, Count D bade her enter. The gray eyed woman hesitantly stepped inside, peering into the darkness.

            "Is it in here?" she asked, hoping to silence the uneasy feeling budding in her.

            "Yes, it's a rather sensitive creature, any sudden change in its environment can upset it." He explained. As if on cue, light gradually faded into the darkened interior, and Ronnie could make out the shape of plush furniture. When the shadows attained more details, she noticed a silhouette lying comfortably on the sofa.

            Ronnie's gray eyes grew wide when the light allowed her to see what lay on the plush furniture. The raven colored hair that shone like silk, the flawless alabaster skin, the fine asian features, the dark, Chinese robes, the dual-colored eyes. 

            It was Count D!


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors. I really wish I did, but I don't. *sobs* I also wish I could draw like that… *sighs dreamily* but that's not gonna happen in this lifetime XD  
  


Author's notes:  
Me: Thanks for reading ^^ Sorry about the cliff hanger ending. Had no real idea how I was gonna continue *sweatdrops* Anyhoo, on with the fic!! Leon won't be making his appearance in this chappie.

Reader: So he _is_ going to appear?

Me: Err… *sweatdrops* I'm not entirely sure about that…

Chapter Two

            "What is this?!" Ronnie gasped, whirling to face Count D. "Th-that's you! But-but how?! I mean you and him?!" she stammered, her gaze shifting from the raven haired man standing beside her to the one lying on the couch. 

            At the sound of the writer's voice, the D that was comfortably reclining suddenly stiffened. Ronnie rubbed her eyes, and when that brief moment of blindness lapsed, her jaw dropped. It was no longer the pet shop owner that was on the plush furniture. Seated graciously with her arms on her lap was a sandy blonde woman. A pair of small glasses framed her green eyes, and her angular features stared back at the brown haired woman. Gone were the Chinese robes, replaced instead by a loose green cotton shirt and faded jeans.

            D only chuckled in amusement, he was used to seeing confusion and shock on his customers' faces, and Ronnie proved no different. 

            "She… you… what the?" she gawked, her mind reeling. "Why is there a woman in here? I was expecting an animal."

            "It's not a human." D smiled, walking towards the blonde. "It's actually a very special breed of reptile."

            "I write _romantic_ fiction, not _science_ fiction." Ronnie clarified, and yet she found herself inching towards the creature. She noticed the blonde bore an uncanny resemblance to a character in one of her novels.

            "This is a reptile, a lizard actually. It's not dangerous, at least not in this condition." D assured her, and gestured that the writer touch the blonde.

            Trembling, she reached out to the seated bespectacled animal, and felt its scale-like texture brush beneath her fingers. The cool smoothness was a delicious feeling, and she soon found herself absently caressing its nape. Her eyes were locked in its green gaze, as if she wanted to drown in their endless depths.

            D nodded in approval when he saw the blonde nuzzle against the writer's arm. 

            "It likes you." He said simply. "Are you interested in buying it?"

            Ronnie nodded, not even looking up at the count. She had seated herself beside the lizard, and it let her run her fingers through its sandy locks. D seemingly faded into the darkness and returned shortly after. In one hand he held a piece of paper, in the other a pen.

            "Of course, before I sell you this animal, you have to sign a contract." He informed her.

            "Certainly." She replied, forcing herself to face the count.

            "There are three conditions that you must always follow. If you were to break one of these, the pet shop will not be held accountable for anything."

            "What sort of conditions?"

            "First," he began, holding up one fine-boned finger. "You must burn a special incense everyday."

            "Incense, got it."

            "Second, feed it insects or fresh vegetables and water, nothing else."

            "Ah, it has a delicate constitution? Much like me." The writer joked, trying to lighten the somewhat formal demeanor the Count had taken.

            "And third, under no circumstance are you to lock it in a room smaller than this one."

            "Wait, the bedrooms in my flat aren't as large as this one, does that mean I can't close the doors?"

            "You may close the door, but you must never _lock_ it."

            "Is it claustrophobic?" Ronnie blinked.

            Count D's eyes narrowed into jovial slits. "Will there be any problem with the stated conditions?"

            "I…" she trailed off unsurely, but her eyes fell upon the green eyed creature. "I'll follow them, I promise."

            "Very good. Please sign here." The Asian man pointed to the dotted line at the bottom of the contract. Nodding, Ronnie scribbled her signature then visibly paused.

            "One more question, if I may." She ventured.

            "Certainly, Miss Ronnie."

            "Is it female?" she whispered, somewhat fearing that she would offend the blonde creature.

            "Ah, it is still physically juvenile. It will take one more month for it to fully mature and until that time comes, one can't be sure of its gender." D chuckled.

            "What?!" the author gasped, "You mean to say it could be male? But… but it looks like a woman." She turned to her new pet and blinked once more in surprise. A red haired boy of twelve with the most curious blue eyes shyly approached her.

            "Will it keep doing that?" the writer giggled nervously, extending her hand to the youth.

            As always, D only smiled enigmatically.

            The trip back home was nothing short of unusual. Never having learned to drive, Ronnie always used public transportation to get around. D had given the lizard a special sedative, one that would supposedly regulate its transformations to a minimum. 

            The romance novelist had to take a cab, as D explained the subway or busses might upset it. Almost every time they passed through a tunnel, Ronnie could feel something change in her pet. Mostly it was something minute, like the partition of the hair, or the richness of the eyes.

            But when the driver swerved abruptly to avoid a speeding motorcycle, the lizard's appearance took a drastic change. Hair so pale it was almost white flowed to his back, and the most terrified pair of serpentine green eyes stared into Ronnie's.

            "Ya crazy bum!! Ya don't own the road!!" the driver cussed out the window, too outraged to check how his customers fared.

            Ronnie gathered the frightened boy in her arms, stroking him like one would a child who woke up crying from a nightmare.

            "There, there. It's alright, I won't let anything harm you." She hushed. "No one is going to hurt you if I can help it."

            Gradually, the boy shifted into a girl with sun kissed hair and blue eyes.

            "What am I to do with you?" Ronnie laughed. "Maybe I should give you a name." She murmured just loud enough so only the two of them would hear.

            Trusting eyes shone in delight, and the girl nodded.

            "Let's see… if you don't mind, I'll name you after a character I made. Should I call you Alex? No, I made her into a gold digger who ends up in jail. Maybe Chris? No, he ended up deserting his friends when they needed him the most. Why not Gerry?"

            The girl stiffened and shook her head at the last name.

            "No, huh? Well I don't blame you, Gerry was my flat-mate. Hmm, let me rack my brain for a suitable name… how about Keith? I wrote her to be this orphaned girl who pretends to be a boy so she could survive the harsh world of the nineteen hundreds."

            The red haired girl snuggled close to Ronnie in approval.

            "Good choice, she ends up a wealthy gold mine owner who never gave up her individuality. Even after she got married."

            Finally, after some minutes of silence, the driver announced they reached their destination. They were at a moderately sized flat, where privacy was provided by the trees and plants growing around the compound.

            "Thanks." Ronnie said, handing the man a couple of bills. She felt a constant tug on the sleeve of her sweater, and found the red haired girl to be the source.

            "Yes, I'm coming, Keith." She laughed and proceeded in unlocking the door of their home.

            The door swung open into the living room. The place was sparsely decorated with random pictures and plastic knick knacks. The wide gaps between the furniture made the flat seem empty and somewhat broken.

            "I don't have much stuff," Ronnie explained, "But I have all the essentials for daily living like a tv and a microwave. Oh, do you want me to show you around?" she asked brightly. It didn't seem odd to the gray eyed woman that she was giving a guided tour of her home to her pet.

            "That is the living room, this is the kitchen, here's the bathroom, this is my workspace and these are the bedrooms." Ronnie dramatically gestured to two doors. With a flourish, she opened one of the doors to reveal a small room. Inside was a single-sized bed, a small closet and the rest of the walls were lined with shelves of books. "I wrote five of the books in there. The rest are romance novels of my favorite authors." She grinned sheepishly.

            Keith took in everything with genuine interest. The red haired girl padded to the other door to see what was behind it. But upon touching the knob, she gave a small shriek and held her hand as if burnt.

            "What happened?" Ronnie gasped, rushing to her pet's side. "Are you hurt?"

            The red haired girl answered in the negative, and showed her pale, smooth palm as proof.

            "Are you sure you're alright? Well, that's Gerry's room. Do you want to see what's inside?"

            Keith shook her head and clung to her owner for protection.

            "Alright, alright, I wont force you. I was going to let you sleep in Gerry's room. But if you don't want to be in it, you can sleep in my room."

            The girl brightened and nuzzled her cheek against Ronnie's arm. The writer laughed, "You're so sweet, I don't think I need another month to tell me you're a girl." 

            Keith snuggled closer in response.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors. I do however own an orange backpack :D

Chapter Three

            Evening came, and Ronnie ushered her new pet into her room. As Keith settled on the bed, the writer grabbed her pajamas and a bath towel.

            "Make yourself comfy, Keith." She smiled, "Good night, I'll be in the other room if you need me." 

            The writer closed the door behind her, taking a deep breath of the burning incense. She had expected the scent to be sweet, as Count D was so inclined to sweet things. Instead, it oddly reminded her of peppermint, something that Ronnie was rather fond of.

            "Gerry didn't like peppermint." She found herself mumbling. Her flat-mate didn't like a _lot_ of things, and Ronnie even believed she was included in the list. "You're on your own now, Ronnie. Deal with it!" she muttered, pinching her cheeks to serve as punishment.

            She entered the bathroom and pushed the door behind her. In her tired state, she failed to notice the door didn't close completely, allowing a shaft of light to filter into the hallway.

            'I thought peppermint was supposed to keep one awake?' Ronnie wondered groggily shedding her clothing as she prepared to take a quick shower. She rolled her shoulders, wincing at the tenderness of her limbs. Without even taking a glance at herself in the mirror, she turned the water on and stepped into the jetting sprays.

            The narrow strands of liquid beat against her face, jettisoning the angry tears that streamed from her eyes.

            "After everything I've done, this is the thanks I get?!" she hissed, her tone menacing. "I put up with you, Gerry, but it wasn't good enough!?" her voice grew louder. "I should have made things clearer with you… but you wouldn't even give me a chance! Damn you!!"

            The roar of the shower barely drowned out the rage that poured out from Ronnie. In disgust, the writer grabbed the nearest object (in this case a shampoo bottle) and hurled it at the wall. The shampoo bottle spilt its contents before clattering noisily to the tiled bathroom floor. 

            Ronnie followed suite.

            For nearly twenty minutes, she remained in a fetal position. The water still raining down on her naked body. Never mind that her skin was getting wrinkly, never mind that it was getting chilly, never mind that shampoo lather surrounded her. The constant stream of cold liquid was the only thing that kept her anger in line.

            "Damn you Gerry." The writer snarled, slowly standing up. Ronnie washed away the suds before toweling herself dry. Donning her pajamas, she padded towards her ex-flat-mate's room and paused beside her bedroom door.

            A smile formed on the brunette's face, 'At least something good came out of Gerry's moving out.' She nodded. With a yawn, the novelist went to the room juxtaposed with hers. 

            The bedroom was devoid of almost everything that belonged to Ronnie's ex-flat-mate. The queen-sized bed remained, so did the closet. But gone were the picture frames, gone were the clothes, gone were the wooden carvings, gone was Gerry.

            While some small part of Ronnie rejoiced at that thought, a larger portion mourned. 'Is it my fault Gerry moved out? Was I too selfish?' and she cried herself to sleep.

            Keith was in no way tired, but it humored its owner by pretending to go to sleep. With the faint click of the doorknob, the reptile opened its serpentine green eyes. The darkness of Ronnie's room was both a blessing and a curse. Keith could always see _them_ better when little to no light was present.

            Them, those intangible shapes that danced in the corners of the room. Sometimes they would be on the ceiling, behind walls, under furniture, the reptile saw them every where. Keith could see them perfectly in the dark, but it could do nothing to keep them away. 

            Things were worse at night because the artificial light would mask them, make them invisible. Sunlight was the only thing that helped Keith keep most of them at bay. But still, they could –and often would- modify Keith. 

            And the transformations that the lizard underwent were never of the willing sort.

            Without warning, they pounced. They forced themselves in, fighting, playing, merging with Keith. As Count D said, this particular breed of lizard was sensitive to its surroundings. _Too_ sensitive, that the only option Keith had was to escape.

            Its breathing came out in short gasps, weary and in pain as it pried the door open. Though Keith felt oddly exhausted, it did not stumble as it emerged from the room. Had Ronnie finished her shower sooner, she would have seen her pet had a most distressing appearance. 

            Keith had taken the form of a gaunt, sickly pale girl barely in her teens. She wore a tattered, dirty gray rag that feebly tried to pass itself off as a dress. Her sallow, gray eyes had a despondent glaze to them. Long, oily black tresses reaching the small of her back hung before her face like an overly-used mop. Her bony hands leaned against the wall, long finger nails softly scraping the wallpaper.

            A small beam of light caught her attention, and she was drawn to it like a moth to a candle. She rounded the corner of the small flat, and found it came from the bathroom. Mildly unfamiliar with her new home, she peered through the gap between the door and the frame to see what was inside.

            Keith saw Ronnie was removing her clothing, and wondered absently if all humans' skin were mottled blue, black and purple. She pushed the thought aside and continued to watch as her owner entered the shower. 

            The shapes inside the bathroom noticed the observer and lunged for it. The girl felt her canines grow sharp, and her nails sharpen into talons. The mere mention of the name "Gerry" created a murderous glint in Keith's eyes. She remained rooted to the spot, not really looking at anything, not really listening. The words 'put-up' and 'damn' vaguely floated in and out of her mind, as malevolent shapes swirled and poured into Keith.

            When the sound of gushing water stopped, Keith snapped out of her thoughts. Still in her rather menacing form, she quickly dashed away. Where was she going to hide? Ronnie's room?

            'No.' she shook her head. 'They aren't nice…'

            Keith didn't find the shapes in the flat very welcoming, every where she went she met with violent and ill-tempered ones. It was in the living room that the shapes left her body, allowing Keith a momentary respite. 

            The ragged dress thankfully took on a loose green cotton shirt and stone-washed jeans, her oily black tresses shortened into a red close-cropped style, eyes gleamed in a healthy luster of azure, and she became a he.

            Truly tired, he collapsed onto the couch and drifted off to sleep. 

            Sunlight streamed into the flat, stirring Ronnie from her restless slumber. She gave a large yawn then stiffened at the sight of Gerry's empty room. She relaxed when she remembered why she was alone on the queen sized bed. It took tremendous effort on the writer's part to bury the memories of years past, especially since she was in its source.

            "I wonder what Gerry's doing now?" she mumbled, getting out of bed. She groggily shuffled into the kitchen, where she began to fry an egg.

            "Good morning." A soft voice greeted.

            "Morning." Ronnie answered, adjusting the flame on the stove. It took a good five minutes before she realized she wasn't alone. Her gray eyes widened in shock and whirled to the source. With disbelief utterly evident on her face, the writer only gaped.

            "Is anything wrong, Ronnie?" a red haired male asked.

            The writer brandished the spatula at the man.

            "Who are you!? What are you doing in my flat?!?" she demanded. She began to spew out strings upon strings of questions, ending with: "What have done with Keith!!?" 

            "Ronnie, _I_ am Keith."


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors

Disclaimer: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors.

Author's Note: Apologies for taking so long in finishing this fic. I have to admit I wrote myself into a corner with the last chapter and had no idea how to continue it. Also, my writing has seriously degenerated over the years so apologies on that as well. I want to thank all the people who read this fic and those who made reviews of the chapters. It really means a lot to me. Hopefully, this will be the second to the last chapter.

Chapter Four

"Ronnie, _I_ am Keith."

It took several minutes for the words to sink in and for Ronnie to actually understand. "You. Can. _Talk_?" she gawked. "I should have asked a lot more questions about you." Ronnie shook her head as she returned to the eggs she had begun to cook. "Well sit down and I'll fix you your breakfast. Soon as I'm done cooking mine."

Keith nodded and wordlessly did as he was told. "Are you going out today?" he asked as the pajama-clad writer placed a bowl of salad sprinkled with crickets in front of him.

"No, I thought I'd stay in and maybe start working on my next book's draft." Ronnie smiled as she began to dig into her food. "Why? Do you need something? I can easily go to D's and get it."

"You don't have to do anything like that. I just thought I should ask." He assured her with a small smile. The lizard lifted the bowl to his mouth as a slender, lengthy tongue shot out between parted lips, curling around insects and leaves before being pulled back in. It was quite a sight for Ronnie as she paused, mid-bite, and stared.

Keith didn't seem perturbed as he soon polished off the food. Once he noticed the unblinking gaze on the writer's face, he waved his hand before her eyes. "Ronnie? Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah, sorry, your tongue is just, well wow. You really are a lizard. I mean, I knew you weren't ordinary with all the changing and stuff." She apologized, which led to her rambling then apologized for rambling. She trailed off when she realized that Keith was smiling and barely suppressing a chuckle.

"Is something on my face?" She asked, a hand reaching for the corner of her mouth. Keith shook his head in amusement as he once again changed into a young woman with strawberry blonde hair and glittering hazel eyes. Her skin was a healthy tan, the sort one only found on those who spent their days in the sun. Her simple form-fitting dress accentuated the way her waist tapered perfectly into the flare of her hips. And Ronnie felt a twinge of jealousy at how pretty Keith looked.

"There is nothing on your face. I just think you're pretty." Keith giggled, reaching out to lightly tap the very tip of Ronnie's nose before adding "For a human."

The apples of Ronnie's cheeks grew hot and colored crimson, "Um, thanks, I think. If you want, we could go to the park but you'll have to wear a hat and clothes that won't change when you do. The question is do I have anything that'll fit you? Maybe we should go shopping first?"

Ronnie seemed excited about the prospect of going out to buy clothes for Keith. After all if all those people who owned dogs and cats can go buy them pants and shirts, why couldn't she buy clothes for a lizard, albeit a lizard who looked human at first glance. What may have been a shopping montage began to play in Ronnie's mind when the doorbell interrupted her thoughts.

"Who could that be?" The writer pursed her lips as she rose to answer the door. She peered through the peephole and a shriek caught in her throat. Quickly she dashed to Keith and started pushing the lizard towards her room.

"R-Ronnie? What's going on?" Keith blinked.

"It's my agent! I didn't know he was coming! You have to hide!" Ronnie whispered. It was going to be difficult to explain how she happened to have a guest who could transform at a moment's notice. The doorbell continued to ring as Ronnie instructed Keith to stay inside the room while she donned a robe.

"Coming!" Ronnie called out before finally answering the door. Standing in the doorway was a young man with dark brown hair, bangs cropped short to keep out his bright blue eyes. He was clothed simply, no brief case in tow, no fancy suit, it was hard to imagine he was an agent from the way he was dress. "John, sorry for taking so long. I couldn't get out of bed."

John chuckled as he entered the flat. "It's my fault. I should have called ahead and made sure you were already up."

"So, how's having the whole pad to yourself treating you?" John asked while Ronnie ushered him to the living room.

"A bit creepy since I no longer have any explanation for all those noises at night." She admitted sheepishly, "Over active imagination, can't help it."

The agent sat down on the couch and made himself comfortable. "I'll be honest, Ronnie. This is more of a personal call than a business one."

Ronnie felt her stomach knot and a lump formed in her throat, "P-personal? In what way?"

"You see I've, ah, how do I say this." John began, "I've kept our relationship a purely professional one because, well, Gerry was around. And well, I didn't think it was any of my business what went on between the two of you so long as I got you the book deals and got your works published. And now that Gerry's gone, I'm sort of wondering if-"

"My writing will not decline or degenerate because of Gerry's absence!" Ronnie gasped in indignation. "I am shocked you'd even entertain that notion!"

"What? No! Ronnie, that's not what I was going to say!" John shook his head before taking a deep breath. "I know this might probably sound extremely unethical but I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me."

"Oh." Ronnie's eyes grew saucer-wide, "_Oh!_ John, I don't know what to say. But you have to understand it's only been a few days since Gerry left."

"You don't have to have dinner with me tonight or tomorrow night or even next week." John took Ronnie's hands and held them firmly but tenderly. "I can wait for as long as it takes."

Ronnie felt her face flush and her heart hammer in her chest. "J-John I, I don't know what to say."

"A 'yes' would be nice." He smiled hopefully, and squeezed her hands lightly. The smile left his face when Ronnie pulled her hand away and avoided his gaze. Had the writer not been distracted by the dozens of questions buzzing in her head, she might have noticed the grim line that was John's lips. When she finally faced him again, an understanding smile greeted her.

"Give me time to think about it." Was her response before she showed John out. Once she closed the door, Ronnie let out a squeal. Someone actually wanted to go out on a date with her! It sounded shallow but the whole thing seemed like something she'd write in one of her romance novels.

"Keith, you can come out now!" Giddily, she called out. Ronnie trembled in excitement as characters and plots practically wrote themselves in her mind. She saw Keith enter the living and motioned for her to sit on the couch. She had to tell someone, so why not Keith?

But just as they sat across each other, Keith began to change forms once again. The lizard shifted into a form that was distinctly male with hair the color of moonlight and hints of midnight at the ends. Slender eyes that glittered obsidian stared hungrily at Ronnie and before the writer could so much as blink, Keith lunged at her.


End file.
